They stayed entwined until Charles leaned back further, he needed to feel her body against his. He pulled her across him as he lay back on the sofa, her skirts falling over his legs in a muslin curtain.
The action stirred Martha’s senses, she was lying across a man, like some sort of wanton woman, she pulled away from him. “No,” she said, hoarsely, breathing in large gasps of air to try and steady herself.
“Yes,” Charles responded, his voice gruff, pulling her back towards him.
Martha put her hands against his chest and pushed him away, “No, this is wrong,” she said firmly.
“It doesn’t have to be,” Charles said, sitting up, so he was closer to her. “Martha marry me, let me be the one to take care of you now and in the future. Marry me.”
Martha stilled and looked at Charles, he looked as flushed as she felt and was breathing as deeply and erratically. “What did you say?” she asked, but her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Charles saw the change and once again panicked. “I asked you to marry me, it would solve everything, I could look after you, you wouldn’t need to worry about your future, I would take care of you,” the ever calm Charles babbled like an idiot.
“But we dislike each other,” Martha said, matter of fact.
Charles flopped back against the sofa, half in exasperation, half in defeat. “That wasn’t a show of dislike,” he said, referring to what had just happened.
“That was a heat of the moment lapse,” Martha said standing. “I think it would be best if you leave now and we forget what has happened here today.”
Charles stood, trying to keep his own emotions in place. He pulled down his waistcoat and frock coat and looked Martha fully in the face. “I meant every word and action that has happened today and I won’t be forgetting it in a hurry. I am presuming this is a refusal, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
The door closed behind Charles before Martha could think of a suitable retort. She walked over to the desk and leaned on it for support, while she tried to calm her breathing. How had the day turned from being asked to give up her future and then offered an alternative, one that she had never allowed herself to dream of?
Married to Charles Anderton. Martha Anderton. The names suited one another. She shook herself, it was obviously said in the heat of the moment. He could never have seriously considered marriage to her, he disliked her, she disliked him. She closed her eyes in frustration, if she disliked him so much, why had she felt bereft once the feel of his lips on hers had faded? Why would the memory of that kiss haunt her every thought? She was a romantic fool and should know better.
Martha Fairfield looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. She had come here to do a job and that is what she would do, the events of the morning would never be mentioned, or referred to, or thought of, again.
Chapter 14
Charles kept out of the way of Martha as much as was possible over the coming days, although he could not avoid her as much as he would have liked to have done. It stung. Her rejection had hurt him more than he would have ever predicted.
He prided himself on being sensible, calm, collected, and yet, whenever Martha Fairfield was in his presence, he seemed to turn into a gabbling fool. He had asked her to marry him. The problem was, rather than descending into panic when the realisation of what he had done had sunk in, and being relieved that she had all but laughed in his face, he was hurt. She was the only woman he had ever asked to marry him, or was likely to, and he had received a categorical rejection.
He was absolutely convinced that she liked him though. No one could respond to a kiss in such a passionate way and feel indifferent. The memory of her pulling his hair and tugging him towards her, he would not forget in a hurry. She had been inexperienced, but eager in the way she responded to his kiss. Somehow the fact that she was untouched by anyone, made him feel even more for her than he already did.
She obviously had some feelings for him, but she was so controlled, she had stopped things just when they were about to get interesting. He could still almost feel the material of her dress along his leg. If only he had not hurried her, of course she would pull away at that point. She was a genteel lady and he had moved things too fast. He had forgotten that she was of a higher class than him and he cursed himself. Of course she was better than him and he had tried to lower her to his level by dragging her onto the seat.
To be told that she disliked him after they had kissed, had stung his pride. How she could say something so cutting, when he had been barely able to breathe, never mind think, but she had brought him down to size. It was clear that although she was facing a future that was bleak, his proposal was repugnant to her. She obviously felt that he was no good for her. He would just have to be a man and treat her as coolly as she treated him, and if he could forget that kiss, he would be able to.
*
Martha was determined that there would be no opportunity for any more foolishness, but as time went on, she did start to feel guilty about her actions. Charles had treated her with nothing but concern and kindness, and she had been offensive. She inwardly cringed at the very thought of the way she had reacted. She had been brought up to behave with more consideration and respect for others, and was secretly ashamed of her behaviour.
Always the practical one, she decided that things had to be cleared between them and so waited until the bad weather had eased and Alfred and Laura had returned to their excursions outside. She did not want anyone to interrupt when she was begging forgiveness.
Charles looked surprised when Martha entered the study and closed the door. He did not have time to utter any sarcastic comment, as she approached the desk and stood before it, like a naughty school girl.
“I need to speak to you Charles, about last week,” Martha started, not quite meeting his gaze.
“Which part of last week?” Charles asked, suppressing a smile, when his words caused a panicked glance, and then a flush in Martha’s cheeks.
“I behaved rudely and in a manner that you didn’t deserve. Your proposal was made out of kindness and I am ashamed that I responded so poorly,” she replied.
“Have you reconsidered?” Charles asked, his voice expressing the surprise he felt, and much to his mortification, the hope.
Martha met his gaze, her expression showing the confusion she felt at his response. “No, I didn’t take it seriously.”
“I see,” Charles responded, his face shuttered.
“I am sorry, I know you must detest me for how I have behaved and although I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I hope that we can continue to rub along as we were prior to our silliness,” Martha said quickly.
Charles seemed to sag at Martha’s words. He looked at her and rubbed his hand through his hair, partly in frustration, partly to try and keep control of his temper. “Silliness Martha? I obviously don’t know you at all, if you thought what we shared was nothing more than silliness.”
Martha winced, she had practiced time and again how she would behave, how she would explain herself. She had even hoped that he would laugh about it and wave her embarrassment away, but standing in front of him was totally different to what she had imagined. He looked hurt at her words. She struggled with this, for she thought he had disliked her as much as she had disliked him. Well, perhaps she had not disliked so much as been annoyed at him, felt unsure around him.
Why this had happened she was struggling to understand. They had different roles within the house, there was no need for any antagonism to have developed. He was a handsome man and was charming, she had seen that so many times since she had met him. It was not disputed that the staff, Lord and Lady Dunham and anyone they came into contact, all liked Charles Anderton, everyone apart from herself.
Martha was a reasonable person, she had never made an enemy in her life, as far as she knew, but there was something about Charles that unsettled her. She had tossed and turned at night about it enough times before they had shared the kiss,
but since then, she had barely had an hour’s uninterrupted sleep. He had made her long for something that she had accepted was beyond her reach, and her insides were in constant turmoil because of it.
If she could have confided in someone, they would have said that she was a fool and told her to accept the marriage proposal. She knew that the marriage would give her everything she had wanted and needed, a husband, future security and maybe, if it was not too late, children of her own. So what was holding her back? She had no idea, just the uncomfortable feeling that he had asked her to marry him out of pity or on the spur of the moment and she felt that she could not accept a proposal on those terms.
Foolish, she most certainly was, but the only thing she had left was her pride and she could not sacrifice that for the security of a marriage. She was strong enough to sort this out, but Charles’ reaction had confused her, and knocked her off balance. He seemed so upset at her words, and she had not expected that.
She tried to make light of it. “It was a moment of madness, surely you must see that?” She was struggling to find the right words, to make things as they were before she started worrying about the feelings of the man in front of her.
“Must I?” Charles said, “I remember being perfectly serious when I was kissing you. I could not have taken that lightly.” He had moved around the desk until he was too close to Martha, unable to resist making her feel as uncomfortable as he was.
Martha took a step back, her heart beginning to pound. This was the moment she should leave the room, but instead she stood watching Charles as he matched her step away from him, with a step of his own. “Charles?” she asked nervously.
“Yes?” he replied. He did not want to kiss her. He was annoyed that she made him feel as if he meant nothing to her, when his dreams were haunted by her, but he could not help himself.
Martha stood still, her shoulders stiff, but she nibbled her lip, giving away the turmoil she was feeling. “We need to be civil to each other, while we are living under the same roof,” she said, but the look in Charles’ eyes was making her think that he was not actually hearing her words.
Charles reached out and stroked Martha’s face, “I want to always live under the same roof as you,” he said quietly.
Martha flushed, not sure whether it was his touch or his words that had affected her, but she stood motionless.
“Nothing to say, Martha?” Charles asked, continuing to stroke her cheek. “Are you not flattered that I want to live in the same home as you? That I want to be able to take care of you?”
Martha’s mind was racing, this was not what she had been expecting, or anticipated. He was offering to look after her, she felt herself weaken and lean towards him slightly.
“Would you like that Martha?” Charles whispered, before leaning down and kissing her. He was gentle, certain that at any moment she would pull away from him, but she did not.
Martha’s inner voice was telling her to move away, to push him away, but her body was telling her something completely different. She leaned into Charles and wrapped her arms around his neck, grasping at his hair. He was taller than her, and she had never felt that two people needed to fit together before now, but that was how she felt, as if they slotted together in perfect symmetry.
Charles welcomed Martha’s movements with an appreciative groan. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. He was amused and aroused by the way she returned his kiss, she had obviously remembered everything they had done the first time. He nibbled along her jawline and down her neck, squeezing her when she arched her neck to allow him better access, moaning gently with pleasure.
God, she felt good and she was his. He returned to her lips, not wanting to leave them alone for long. This was what he had dreamed of, knowing what lay underneath that calm exterior. She was responsive and passionate and he wanted her.
His hands moved to her bottom and pulled her into him. He needed her to feel what effect she was having on him, but the movement caused a gasp. Martha pulled her hands from his hair and pushed him away slightly.
“Charles, I….” she said, breathless and flushed, but looking a little scared.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop now,” Charles said, aching for the contact to continue.
“What are we doing?” Martha asked, still using her hands against his chest to keep a barrier between them.
“Isn’t that obvious?” Charles said, a little sharply. His emotions were screeching for release while at the same time his brain knew it was over.
Martha seemed to pull herself together at the tone of voice, or the words, Charles would never be sure which, but she moved away, completely out of his grasp. She did not bother to straighten her hair, or fix her dress, which had become disordered, but she stood straight and looked Charles in the eye.
“I can only apologise for my lapse, I did not wish for this to happen again,” she lied, “and I can only assure you it will never happen again. I shall return to Dunham House if I have to, but we will not act so improperly again.”
“Martha, don’t be ridiculous!” Charles snapped. “We like one another, what is wrong with that?”
“Thank you for reminding me what a low opinion you have of me, yes I have been ridiculous,” Martha said, somewhat unfairly. “I can only regret thinking that you were a better person than you actually are.” She turned away and walked to the door. “I refuse to open myself to censure by the staff or my employers, so there will be no repeat of what has gone on today, that I promise.”
Charles sank in the chair nearest the desk and groaned. What was it with this woman? One moment she was as cool as ice, the next she was acting like he was the answer to her dreams. He knew one thing though, she was the answer to his. He had never felt what he felt when he was touching her, and he was not going to stop trying to get through to her just how much they should be together.
For once in his life he was not going to be the dutiful employee. He was going to contact Lord Dunham and assure him that it was vital that both he and Miss Fairfield stayed exactly where they were for the foreseeable future. Return to Dunham House indeed! How could she think that, when there were definitely more kisses to enjoy here?
Chapter 15
Laura was feeling strange. She was restless and unsettled and she had no idea why. She had sorted out her room, much to the frustration of the maid that attended to the task every day, but she could not stop herself. She then started to walk through the house, picking up objects, gazing at them without seeing and then moving onto the next object.
Alfred had watched Laura from the top of the stairs as she had moved through the hallway. He smiled as he observed her, she was like a tight ball of energy, waiting to bounce away at any moment. The weather had been wetter in recent days, so he could understand her frustration, neither of them were used to doing nothing.
He walked down the stairs, his movement catching Laura’s attention. Her smile lit up her face at seeing him, before it was replaced by a frown.
“I need to walk, or I think I will go insane,” she said, with a scowl.
Alfred laughed, “Is that ‘would you please accompany me on an excursion, Mr Peters?’” he teased.
Laura laughed, but tried to maintain the scowl, “Oh, gone all high and mighty have we? Fine, oh great one, May I trouble you to accompany me on a walk?”
“Of course,” Alfred smiled and offered his arm.
They strolled through the formal gardens before reaching the border of the wider land. Laura examined the flowers as they walked. “It must be wonderful to have not to worry about the future, to just have a life where you can enjoy the flowers,” she said a little wistfully.
“I’m sure Lord and Lady Dunham have worries, just different ones to those which will trouble people like us,” Alfred said, remembering the all too real worries that they had faced not so very long ago.
“I suppose so,” Laura replied unconvinced.
“Are you jealous?” Alfred asked, partly teasing, partly cur
ious at Laura’s apparent envious streak. He had not noticed that about her before.
Laura was soon to reassure Alfred with her response. “Jealous? No!” she exclaimed. “I would just like to know what is going to happen in the future, I suppose. Don’t mind me, I’ve had too much time on my hands and am restless.”
“I can understand that,” Alfred agreed. “Don’t worry about the future, I think it will work out fine once Lord and Lady Halkyn return.”
“We don’t know when that will be,” Laura said.
“I would have thought it would have been before now,” Alfred responded with a frown. “Lord Halkyn was not funning when he said that he was going to show his bride the world. I wonder where they went?”
Laura looked at Alfred sharply, before managing to school her features. “Do you need them to return, do you need to leave?” Her heart rate increased in dread of his response, she had come to rely on him so much over the previous weeks. His leaving was her biggest fear.
“I was given unspecified leave of absence,” Alfred responded. “I should let Mr Frost know that it is going to be longer than anticipated, it is only decent. He has been reasonable with me, it is only fair that I should keep him informed.”
The response was not quite as reassuring as Laura had hoped, but she could ask for no more. Alfred had a job in the city, which he took seriously and the fact was that she could never return to London, it would always be too much of a risk for her. So, even if her wildest dreams were realised and Alfred fell madly in love with her, they could never be together. She walked on with a feeling of lead in her stomach. She would have to become accustomed to life without him.
They reached a bench on the very edge of the formal area. It was placed to enable those who did not want to walk further into the fields to sit and admire the wider land. Laura paused as they were passing the bench.
An Inconvenient Trilogy - Three Regency Romances: Inconvenient Ward, Wife, Companion - all published separately on Kindle and paperback Page 52